Suddenly Saskatchewan -- the land of the living skies.
The shock of the prairies was visceral and deep. He was half way from home: half way from his new home and half way from his old one. He wasn't far enough to miss his old one, but he was close enough to be nervous of his new one.
He'd opted to leave everything behind. His things were packed into a small cube in the fringes of an old industrial park. His friends in their homes. His former life in a bag in the first available garbage.
He carried on, not thinking to deeply about what would come along.
He was still in the prairies, but on the move. It was flatter than Alberta, but still, it felt familiar. He came across a point of interest. It - like most of the drive - was flat, too. Possibly the point was that the flatness was of particular interest. He didn't know -- there was no further information.
He carried on, zig-zagging his way northeast, towards his destination, leaving his former life behind.
Unlike long drives in his youth, this one was draining. Both physically and emotionally. He missed his friends and the benefits that came with them. But not enough to go back.
He carried on, in no hurry, through the wind and a slight worry.
There were many small towns along the way. One was a paradise away from home, or at least that's what they said it was. Who knows what they meant by that, it seemed barren and deserted. If quiet was paradise, then it would have been the Caribbean. Minus the people, the beaches, and the booze.
Soon he would arrive at his destination and begin the task of making a home. Though he was not sure what that would look like, the idea appealed to him. This time he'd do it right. He'd get to know people and step outside his zone of comfort. This excited him and made him nervous at the same time.
He carried on, reflecting on his new home away from home.
He carried on, motoring through the discomfort of things left behind and things to come.
He carried on, through the wind swept prairies that were his home.
He carried on.